Stories of Old
by DarksoulsandDestiny
Summary: Not sure what to call it, but I'll stick with this for now. A compilation of random short stories I wrote randomly. Rated T for violence and minor swearing. Reviews and feedback are always much appreciated.


Wraith

The phantom emerged from the ground, in the deep, dark, soggy forest known as Darkroot. No true light penetrated the thick canopy of leaves casting the forest in an ethereal twilight. He looked down to his hands, in one he brandished a thick, heavy blade known only as the Darksword. In his other hand he held his razor sharp Falchion. He was adorned in the typical armor of a Darkwraith, his skull-like mask and skeletal armor made him appear to be a walking corpse. One thought sheared through his mind.

"_Humanity" _Oh, how he adored the tiny black sprite. He would often caress the thing before he smashed it to restore his ailing mind. He readied himself for the coming battle. As he came into this dimension, he could sense the presence of more phantoms, but these had a different aura. He had come to kill; these two bastards came to help.

"_I will slay them all._" The man thought. He sprinted towards the direction the master of the world should be in. He hid behind one of the massive, slimy trees as he spied his quarry. The Master was dressed in garb like that of the eastern assassins, while his two compatriots wore mismatched armor. One was clad in a standard soldier's leather armor and boots, but wore light wanderer's gauntlets and a thief's mask. The other wore Knight's armor with the matching helm, but wore heavy steel gauntlets and leggings. They both wielded Claymores with no shield. No doubt reinforced with titanite from that bastard blacksmith.

"Astorans. The scourge of this existence. With their stuck up personalities and amicability." The Wraith thought. Oh how he loathed those humans. He hated that he had to be called human alongside them. And that blubbering idiot at the bridge in the Undead Burg. Always going on an on about the sun. He would love to scoop his eyeballs out and feed them to him. Oh the wonderful tortures to be done.

"Focus Erlos." He muttered. The knight had begun walking his direction. The Wraith decided to meet him. He stalked out from behind the tree, his glowing red Aura preceding him. The knight tried to bolt back to his friends but received a falchion in his back. Erlos had thrown his sword at him, successfully severing his spine. He activated his Dark Hand and sucked the humanity from his very being. Erlos watched in sick satisfaction as the man hollowed before his eyes. The man's hollowed corpse vanished from existence.

"One down, two to go." Erlos said. He picked up his bloodied sword from the ground, and he walked menacingly to the two remaining men. The host, realizing what had happened to his companion, brandished his katana menacingly.

"Come no closer!" He yelled to the approaching wraith. The wraith stalked on. He realized their plan before they did. He knew that the white would try and stab him in the back while he was occupied with the host, it was a common tactic. As he expected, the white summon barged out of the brush in a wicked overhead smash, Erlos simply pivoted and punched the man in the teeth as he ran by; he clearly knocked some out judging by the blood the man spat as he stood up. The wraith merely shrugged.

"_Fools."_ He thought. The white summon, outraged by his attitude tried to take his head off, but Erlos was far more skilled. With a flip of his wrist, he parried the swing with his falchion and stabbed him in the eyes with his Darksword. The phantom slumped down, dead. He spun around to look for the host when a thud alerted him, the man attempted to penetrate his shoulder plates with his Katana, but it only bounced off. Realizing his mistake, he flipped back into a series of handsprings.

"_Two can play at that game._" Erlos thought. He swapped his Tiny Being's Ring, for a dark colored wood one. He felt the power rush through his veins as he flipped towards the terrified host. As he neared him, he sheathed his swords. The host swung his sword at Erlos, but Erlos caught it in one hand, and squeezed. The host watched in horror as his sword began to crack, the shatter in the wraiths hand. Erlos brought his other hand up, glowing with the raw power of the Dark Hand. He jammed his fingers in the host's eyes and felt the humanity flow into him and listened with hideous glee to the man's screams as he was blinded and hollowed. Erlos removed his bloody hand and watched as his body slowly faded away back to his own world. It was a good day for the murderous wraith.


End file.
